Fearing for My Life
I don’t fear death. I don’t fear dying. When it’s my time, I know where I’m going so I have no reason to fear. Fearing for my life? I can recall once. I was 16 and couldn’t breathe. I was having an asthma attack and felt my esophagus constricted. I could barely breathe. That was the last time I had an asthma attack cause I remember telling Jesus He died so I didn’t have to experience this, He paid for my healing so I wanted asthma to go in Jesus name. And it was done. I’ve never feared for my life again. Until tonight…
I’m not naive that many blacks have experienced police brutality and have been mistreated at the hands of law enforcement. However, I will not lump all cops into the dirty or racist cop category because that’s simply not true. Honestly, I’ve never experienced, personally, any mistreatment. Growing up my dad worked for the city and every time we got pulled over, they’d say “Well hey there Mr. Bobb-Semple! In a hurry are ya?” Always off with a warning. Always kind. But I know that’s not everyone’s experience. Even growing up in southeast Louisiana I hadn’t experienced outright, direct racism… I was naive to think racism ended at the back cover of my Louisiana history book, safely contained in history cover to cover. I later learned I was wrong.
I knew marrying a white man there would be those who didn’t agree. I didn’t care, after all there is beauty in all the various races and colors and shapes and sizes… that’s what Heaven’s gonna look like! To be honest, I’ve gotten plenty of looks and I’m the one who smiles and makes eye contact to make them feel awkward for staring, but no one has ever said anything.
Tonight was date night and we were eating dinner outside at this Louisiana-fare joint. Expecting nothing, a red Mitsubishi Lancer drives by with their windows down and a young guy yells at us, “It’s a shooter… n*g**r!” I’m 29 years old and I’ve never been called that once in my life. To be honest, I didn’t expect to ever be called that in my life. Initially, pure shock. I couldn’t believe this just happened. And then I watched every car that passed, one after another. Would this guy drive by again? What will He say next time? Will he shoot at me? We are across the street from the Walmart where a shooter was apprehended before shots were fired… will this guy put shots behind his words next time? I was scared for my life and hurried to finish eating so I could pack up the rest and we could leave.
We got in the car, exhaled, and tears immediately started flowing. I was afraid and just wanted to hide. I wanted to go to a movie because it’s dark and I can’t be seen. I’m not ashamed of the way God made me, but for the first time in my life I was afraid of how God made me. Friends, fear opens doors that have to be closed, and while I’ve retracted the fear of how God made me, the problem isn’t that the guy could have had a gun. The problem is that those were the hateful words he fired from his mouth… and out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. The problem is also that for how young he was, most likely that mindset is generational. Now, I’m not going to go down Gun Laws Lane, but the heart in that young man was more hurtful to me than guns. The mindset and heart that controls his actions was what had me fearing for my life tonight, wanting to hide.
Nevertheless, as my husband reminded me as we pulled into a parking lot instead of going home, we can’t hide. We stand at this crossroads and we choose the path that looks like closing the door to fear and hiding and we continue to walk in public in the love of Jesus we’ve been given to share. God has not called us to walk in fear nor is the calling on our marriage to hide. There is so much we’ve walked through and will walk through and the bridging of races is only a part, so tonight, we choose to adventure on.